


Long And Winding Road

by quizasvivamos



Series: With A Cherry On Top [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quizasvivamos/pseuds/quizasvivamos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the "With A Cherry On Top" series: Kurt has a big audition, and Blaine is along for the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long And Winding Road

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot is based on the following prompts...
> 
> SofiaMichelle prompted: Kurt getting cast for a broadway play, Santana and Brittany reuniting and Klaine first fight!
> 
> landofstories prompted: I’d really like to see Kurt and Blaine having a fight over something really silly and how they make up
> 
> *Yikes, ok, so I combined like four prompts here (since the first one is more like three), and it was a lot to cover. I just hope it has the intended effect and that you guys still like it! :)

Kurt stepped out onto the broad stage, the lights buzzing and burning bright, the spotlight flickering on and finding him as he took the center. The curtain rose slowly behind him as the music of the opening number began to play, loud and triumphant. He turned slowly toward the house, breathing in deeply, and then exhaling.

_Hello_ , he thought, the words were simple.  _Hello, my name is_ …  _Begin_ , he told himself.

Were those even the correct words? Was this the right song?

He ran his hand down the tie on his costume, smoothing and straightening it. Then he took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand, and opened his mouth to sing…

No sound came out.

He threw his hands up and clutched at his throat, gasping, but he still couldn’t produce a sound. Kurt suddenly felt wobbly on his feet, his head beginning to spin, and the audience swirled into shadows and fog before him. He was fainting, sinking…

Kurt opened his eyes, blinking rapidly, and stared up at the ceiling of the dark bedroom. An arm lay heavy across his stomach, its owner’s hand upon his bare chest. Kurt turned his head toward the softly snoring man and brushed a curl away from his forehead. It stubbornly fell back down as soon as he lifted his fingers.

His mind was reeling now from the dream, and, try as he might, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, so he gently nudged Blaine awake.

“Good morning,” Blaine said gruffly, stretching his arms out and freeing Kurt from his hold. He sat up, glancing around bleary-eyed until his eyes fell on the clock.

“I woke up from a bad dream and couldn’t get back to sleep,” Kurt said. “I’m sorry it’s so early.”

“‘S alright,” Blaine said halfway through a yawn. “Are you okay?”

“It was a stress dream…it’s the third one I had this week. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous about an audition in my life.” Kurt ran his hand through his hair.

“It’s perfectly normal to feel like that. Nerves are good, right?” Blaine said. “Try to relax. I know you’ll nail it.” He laid his hands on Kurt’s shoulders and massaged the tension out of them, making Kurt feel a bit more at ease.

The past few weeks had been especially trying for Blaine as Kurt prepared for one of the biggest auditions of his life. Blaine was used to pre-audition, walk-around-the-house-muttering-to-himself, slightly-obsessive-compulsive Kurt by now, but he had never seen him like this before.

This audition was for a Broadway show. The stakes were as high as they’d ever be, and a role on a reputable New York stage in a well-adored show was hanging in the balance for Kurt. Blaine could practically see the stress radiating from Kurt’s body, his anxiety was tangible, and if he got too close, he might be swallowed up by the dark cloud, not knowing whether he would perish or be able to somehow drag himself back out.

So Blaine did everything he could to turn Kurt’s stress-o-meter down a few notches, from running him aromatherapy baths, to making him morning and evening tea, to practically waiting on him hand and foot. For the most part, it had worked, and Blaine had evaded the danger zone, remaining afloat while keeping Kurt relatively cool.

But as the fateful day of the audition approached, nothing Blaine did was working anymore. The straw that broke the camel’s back and set Kurt off was the most absurd thing imaginable and would have been laughable if Blaine didn’t already know better, that Kurt’s anguish and frustration, although misdirected, was very real.

“You  _know_  my socks go on the  _left_  side of the drawer and not the  _right_! God, Blaine, it’s like you’re  _trying_  to sabotage me!”

Kurt was seething, his face quickly growing a deep crimson, and Blaine stood there just staring at him in amazement as he became a human Mt. Vesuvius, a beautiful disaster. Getting in his way could cause collateral damage, so Blaine remained planted in the middle of the apartment while Kurt raged around him, tossing clothing and pillows from the couch every which way and yelling what he deemed mostly nonsense. He thought he even heard the phrases “insufferable toads” and “wanted to tell him to take a seat on the needle of the Empire State Building.”

Blaine wanted to say, “You sound crazy right now,” and he wanted to say, “This isn’t you, and you need to stop“, but he knew not to add fuel to the fire if he wanted Kurt to diffuse. So he stood there, jaw clenched and arms crossed, and took it, allowed Kurt to blow off all his steam, to let everything out that he needed to. Because in the end, Blaine knew that, even though it still hurt, he could let it roll right off of him. Kurt didn’t mean any of it, and, in spite of it all, Kurt loved him.

“Are you even listening to me?!” Kurt nearly screeched, his chest heaving and eyes growing glossy with tears.

“Kurt -”

Kurt shook his head, clenched his jaw and fists, and glared at Blaine. He took a few steps back, slid the door of the loft open with more force than was necessary, the door rattling on its track, and then stormed out of the apartment.

And then there was dead silence.

Blaine waited patiently for Kurt to return home, because it was all he could do.

Later on in the evening, the door of the loft slid slowly open, and was closed just as gently. Blaine looked up to meet Kurt’s eyes as he stood there, sobered, guilty, and dejected. He needed approval, he needed to know that Blaine was okay and that he had forgiven him, and with a gesture as simple as patting the cushion beside him, inviting Kurt to have a seat on the couch, Kurt knew everything was going to be okay.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt finally spoke, pulling his legs up onto the couch and bringing his knees to his chest. “I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

“I know,” Blaine responded without looking up from the object laying open in his lap. He ran his hand across the plastic covering of the page, and Kurt looked down to properly see what Blaine had been poring over. “I’ve been compiling this for a while now,” Blaine said.

As Blaine slowly flipped through the pages of the scrapbook album, Kurt’s eyes carefully scanned the photographs. “They’re all me.”

Blaine nodded. He placed his index finger over a picture of Kurt in period costume. “This one is from your opening night of Les Misérables. You may not have been the lead, but you stole the scene - and the entire show in my opinion.” He pointed to another one. “And this one is from the night after you brought down the house at the senior showcase. I think the girl who went on after you hated that she had to.” He laughed softly.

“I had some of the best times in my life doing those shows,” Kurt mused, more to himself.

“And you’re a natural. And that’s why you’re going to blow them away during your audition tomorrow. The world deserves to see what I see - to see you how I see you…no one shines brighter. Whether or not you get that part, there will be many more roles down the line for the taking. You are a star, Kurt Hummel. And when you’re up on that stage performing, you are the brightest light in the galaxy.”

Kurt took in a shaky breath and exhaled heavily, trying to fight back the tears now threatening to escape him. “Thank you, Blaine. I don’t know what I would do without you.” He lifted his hands to gently cup Blaine’s face and stared directly into his eyes. “I’m going to show them tomorrow that Kurt Hummel is not someone they’ll soon forget.”

He pressed his lips against Blaine’s, pulling back a little with a sigh, but Blaine chased his lips, kissing him more fervently, allowing the photo album to slide off his lap and to the side of the couch as he shifted and twisted his body toward the man he’d built everything around and believed so adamantly in - and proudly so.

-s-

Kurt pressed his palms against the double doors, took a deep breath, and then pushed his way through the threshold.

Yesterday, he had felt small, like he was being squeezed to death by all the pressure he put on himself, the what ifs, the doubt, and the constant fear of failure, but he entered today like he entered that building, with a renewed confidence and a fire in his eyes.

Chin up, he took careful strides across the floor, parading himself in front of the panel of casting directors, and stopped when he reached the center of the rehearsal room, planting himself firmly and standing tall.

“Good afternoon.” His eyes scanned the faces of the individuals seated before him. “I’m Kurt Hummel, and I’ll be auditioning for the role of…”

-s-

People poured into the theater, rushing to and fro, and Blaine and Santana fought their way through the crowd, wanting to get to their seats in a timely fashion. Kurt had made his best attempt to acquire front and center orchestra seats for them. The ones he ended up securing weren’t as close as he had hoped, but it was even more difficult to get seats in a row for a large party. Though he had invited the entire McKinley crew, only a few could make it, but he was happy just the same.

When Blaine reached the correct row, he was greeted by three smiling faces, only one of which he recognized from photographs and Skype calls: Rachel Berry.

“Santana!” one of the women said, flashing them a bright, wide smile. She rose from her seat and pulled her into a hug.

“It’s great to see you again, Mercedes.”

“Hey! You must be Blaine,” another said.

“That’s Tina,” Santana informed him. Blaine waved and smiled, feeling incredibly out of place in the midst of the reunion of high school friends.

“It’s great to finally meet you in the flesh, Blaine Anderson,” Rachel said, leaning over to take his hand. “We’ll have plenty of time to chat afterward, but opening curtain is in ten minutes,” she added, a warning tone in her voice as she made eye contact with the rest in the group.

Once everyone was situated in their seats and settled down, Blaine noticed an empty seat between Rachel and Santana. He wondered if they were still waiting on someone, but upon asking, all he got were a few shrugs and a “This might be Kurt’s way of keeping me and Berry separated,” which Santana said hushedly by his ear. He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. But he was certain they all knew that Kurt would never waste such a great seat, especially for something so inane, and that it must have been reserved for someone who was expected but perhaps just didn’t make it.

With only a minute until curtain, a tall, bright-eyed blonde squeezed herself into the row, apologizing over and over until she reached the group. Everyone looked up and smiled at her, but there was no time for talk, so she quietly dropped down into the previously empty seat. Blaine could sense Santana growing tense beside him, and he wondered who the newcomer was.

Throughout the show, Blaine watched the blonde lean over and whisper things to Santana who was visibly uncomfortable, but she gradually grew more relaxed. He even caught her smiling at one point.

Blaine had been distractedly watching the show, his curiosity about the subtle, mostly wordless interactions taking place beside him getting the best of him, but when Kurt took the stage, Blaine instantaneously forgot that he was in a packed Broadway theater, that there was anyone else in the world. He only had eyes for Kurt. He might not have been the lead, and he might have only been in the company with a number tagged onto his role, but as far as Blaine was concerned, Kurt was the best part of the entire production. He had never been more proud to be with him.

During the big love ballad toward the end of the show, something caught Blaine’s eye, and he glanced over to see Santana, her fingers entwined with the other woman’s. He had his speculations, and now he was almost certain he was right, that she must be the Brittany Santana had mentioned before and in passing.

He couldn’t be sure what it all meant yet, but, as he looked on, warmth spread throughout his chest and he found himself grinning.

-s-

Kurt ditched the official cast party and suggested they all go out together to celebrate, but he really wasn’t giving anyone a choice in the matter. So he pulled them all along to his favorite bar in the city. Once they were seated and about to order drinks, Santana grew tense again, and, five minutes in, she excused herself.

“I’m really not feeling it tonight. You were great, Hummel, and, as much as I’d love to stay and catch up with everyone and play ‘who’s besting who’, I think I’ll have to pass.” Santana gave no time for anyone to protest before she was hurrying out the door, her heels clacking as she went. Brittany watched her departure in silence, appearing utterly crestfallen.

“It’s okay, let her go,” Kurt said, reaching his hand out to stay Rachel who had risen in a huff.

She dropped back down into her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “But it’s not fair to you that she chose tonight,  _your_  night, to make everything about Santana.”

Meanwhile, Mercedes was speaking quietly to a tearful Brittany who only nodded in response. Then she laid her hand on Brittany’s arm and said: “Go after her.”

Brittany bit her bottom lip and nodded again. And then she was off.

-s-

Kurt and Blaine stumbled into the loft, wrapped up in each other, giggling and shuffling about quite noisily. They froze when something caught their attention, and they looked on at the occupied couch.

Brittany’s eyes fluttered open, and she lifted a finger to her lips, gesturing toward the peacefully unconscious woman wrapped in her arms. She raked her slender fingers through Santana’s raven hair and then rested her chin gently on her head before allowing her eyes to fall shut again.

The men exchanged a tender look, and then Kurt grabbed Blaine’s wrist and pulled him along toward the bedroom, tiptoeing as they went. Kurt began to undress, flopping down onto the bed, but Blaine took his time undoing his tie, his mind elsewhere. He pulled back the curtain that separated the room from the main room just a fraction and gazed upon the girls again.

“Blaine,” Kurt called over. He patted the mattress beside him. “Come to bed.”

Blaine twisted around toward Kurt, a smile playing at his lips. He looked back on the women one final time and then closed the curtain.


End file.
